Good Shoes Won't Save You This Time
by Francesca Jones
Summary: Post Season 6, Jess gets revenge on Rory the only way he knows how. Rory lovers beware. OneShot. Complete


**Disclaimer**: Not mine.

**A/N:** Hey guys! Well, here's a one-shot I wrote out of my anguish and annoyance at season six and the way Rory has changed. Rory lovers beware. Everyone else, enjoy!

**Good Shoes Won't Save You This Time**

She gets the first magazine in the mail on the day after Logan leaves for London. There's no return address on the manila envelope that it came in, but the handwriting on the address is distinctly _his­_- scrawled in a careless yet perfect cursive with little slashes instead of dots sitting above his lower case 'i's. She stiffens immediately upon seeing her name written on that envelope in a handwriting that she never expected to see again, especially after the debacle at Truncheon. There it is though, staring right back at her, both familiar and uncharted territory at the same time.

She makes a pot of coffee and some toast, stealing side-glances at the unopened envelope that stares back at her from the kitchen table. She pours coffee and wonders how he knew to send it to Logan's apartment. He's resourceful. No one ever accused him of otherwise in that department.

Sitting back at the table and sipping her coffee, Rory can't delay the inevitable any longer. She tears the envelope open with shaky fingers. It's a copy of _The New Yorker_, and Rory stares at it in confusion. There's a small, blank Post-It marking a page. Rory stares at the hot pink square of paper and opens the magazine to the indicated page. **Constant Predicates** by **Jess Mariano**.

He published a story in _The New Yorker. The New Yorker_. She read _The New Yorker_ on a fairly regular basis. Her mother read it sometimes. Paris allowed herself one hour of leisure reading a day, and a good portion of the time she chose _The New Yorker_.

She devours the story within minutes, and rereads it three more times as she finishes the pot of coffee. It's amazing, just like **The Subsect **was. He is no fluke. He isn't some accidental genius. He's a writer, and he's amazing. Over the next week, she reads it at least twice a day. One day though, she's rereading it as Logan calls and it slips, unnoticed, beneath the sofa and is forgotten before she answers the phone.

The next one arrives a few weeks afterwards. Her surprise isn't as overwhelming as it was the first time, but she is still shocked. Not that he's published something else, but that he again sent it to her. She'd made no effort to contact him since she left Philadelphia. Why is he sending her copies of his stories?

This one is from a journal called _The Absinthe Literary Review_, with which she was familiar. To anyone else, it might not seem as impressive as being published in _The New Yorker_, but her heart swelled with pride as she read the story they'd published. **Eight Minutes of Rain** impressed her to the extent that his first two pieces did. She's so impressed that she immediately shows it to her mother when she goes to Stars Hollow next. Lorelai nods her approval, but doesn't say much else about it. Rory takes the magazine gently away from her mother and holds it to her chest lovingly. Logan calls on her way home, and Rory accidentally leaves the magazine on the passenger seat of her car.

Rory gets three other literary journals with his stories in them within the summer months. With each one, her desire to write him back, to call him, to _see_ him gets stronger and stronger. She misses him. It's secondary to the waves of sadness she feels over losing Logan, but it's there. She wants to tell him how amazing he is, how much she appreciates being kept in his life, how proud she is of him.

But she's spending her summer in an apartment that her rich boyfriend paid for, spending her days talking to him on the phone and her nights missing him. She hasn't done anything worth doing in so long, and she feels inferior by comparison. So she does nothing, but she gathers up all his work and makes a memory box to fill her time. Each magazine he's sent her finds itself placed delicately into the box, along with her copy of **The Subsect**. She still has no idea why he's sending them, but she takes it as a peace offering and finds comfort in that thought.

Logan's calls are getting fewer and farther between. He calls every day at first, at noon exactly-- which is 8 PM to him. Then his calls lose their sense of punctuality, and sometimes he'd call later in the afternoon, or evening in London. Sometimes he's drunk. Sometimes he yawningly hangs up the phone within ten minutes, leaving Rory feeling lonely and incomplete. Then the calls stop coming on a daily basis. It's every other day, and then it's every two days. The calls get shorter as he gets busier and more accustomed to London life. She doesn't doubt that he loves her, but London is so far away. All talk of coming back to America for a visit fade almost instantly. He's busy. She's lonely. It's just like she feared it would be.

Jess keeps sending literary journals and magazines, and they become her dear friends in her hour of need. Each story tells a tale that speaks to her heart. Each one is so…Jess. There's something about his writing that's so distinct and so completely original. She saw it in **The Subsect** and she continued to see it in ever piece he sent her. She starts to write him a letter, but she throws it away before she writes a sentence. Her wastebasket fills with unfinished letters to a boy she used to love, and now can't even put a definition to their relationship. Do they have one? Are they friends. Or is he just a writer looking for some good word-of-mouth? Whatever the answer to that question, she has to find a bigger box because the one she's using can't hold all the magazines he sends.

Things get easier as school starts again. She doesn't schedule many afternoon classes so she can be around for Logan's spontaneous and sporadic calls when and if they come. Her work at The Yale Daily News keeps her busy and close to happy, and Jess is sending her journals with increasing volume. Each one brings a smile to her face, and she even writes a review of **The Subsect** for the paper, praising it as though it was an Ayn Rand novel.

She thinks about sending him some of her pieces from the newspaper, but she always decides against it. She made it to the mailbox to drop the envelope in once, but instead she tore it in two and threw it away. There was no point. He was better than her. He was doing it. He was living his dream. Her Yale pieces would mean nothing to him.

Soon after school starts, Logan quietly asks her to move out of the apartment so he can stop paying the rent. He sounds apologetic, but she recognizes it as forced. It's the first time he's called in two weeks, and he didn't even say 'I love you' before hanging up.

Rory moves back in with Paris and Doyle, and is too heartbroken to speak much for a few days. She's all but lost Logan, and there's no way for her to fix it. He's slipping into the life his father wanted him to, and she's been left behind. She knows that he's going to break up with her soon, and she can do nothing. It hurts to breathe, to talk, to do anything, but she does it all in hopes that she's wrong.

In the meantime, Jess's stories keep coming to her in the mail. There's a two-week gap, brought on by her sudden move, in all likelihood. Then they start coming to Paris's apartment. Paris reads some of them. The boy is good. She almost approves, which means a lot when it comes from Paris.

Then it happens. Logan breaks up with Rory in a brief, heartless phone call. He makes no effort to apologize and offers no reason. He is curt and formal and so much like his father that Rory can feel the bile rising in her throat. She listens silently as tears fall and he hangs up before she even has an opportunity to say goodbye. She's nauseous, physically ill. This was supposed to be love, and now it's over. She is alone. She chose wrong, and she's alone.

The next package that comes is heavier than the magazines. It has the heft of a book, and Rory tears it open eagerly. She runs her hand over the cover. It's thicker than **The Subsect**, it's a hardcover book, and it already has praise from several acclaimed magazines on the dust jacket. He's titled it **Hell's Choir**, a title that intrigues Rory immediately. She finishes it within two days, and she's in love with it. Like everything else he writes, it's absolutely flawless. He's always been a writer, and now he was proving it to the rest of the world.

It's been a month since Logan broke up with her, and Rory can't stop thinking about Jess. His book rests next to her bed and she leafs through it daily. It's all she has of him now, his book, his writing. It's like she can still see his soul, even though she hasn't seen him in months. She can now though. She can go see him. She doesn't know why she didn't think of it earlier, but she can go see him now. Logan's gone. Jess is still around. He might want to see her. Of course he wants to see her! Why else would he send her copies of everything he gets published. He wants her to remember him.

Rory walks into Truncheon Books and looks around tentatively. Things have changed since she was last here. There are more people milling around, everything looks a littler newer, and much more professional. It hasn't lost its flair and charm though.

Neither has Jess. He's standing in the corner, talking to a blonde woman who is holding a copy of his book in her hands. Rory looks at him approvingly. His jeans are dark blue and fit him well, his light gray T-shirt has David Bowie's face screened on it and that black blazer still looks damn good on him. He looks up as if he knows she's there and smirks in her direction. He excuses himself from the conversation and walks towards her.

"Hey." He says, nodding at her.

"Hey." Rory responds, looking at her feet.

"Wasn't sure you would ever show up." Jess says, toying with a display next to him.

"Didn't know if you even wanted me to." Rory says, forcing herself to make eye contact with him. He just shrugs and puts his hands in his back pockets. He rocks back on his heels and waits for her to speak.

"**Hell's Choir **is amazing." Rory says firmly, with a smile.

Jess nods. "Glad you approve." He says, but it doesn't sound genuine. It sounds sarcastic.

"Logan and I are done." Rory blurts, figuring this will transform his cool demeanor into the Jess she so wants to see.

He's silent for a moment. "So?"

"What do you mean, 'so?'?" Rory asks, hurt.

"What? You think you can mess with me like you did and then break up with the asshole and I'll be excited? Sorry, Rory. That's not how it works." Jess spits out angrily.

Rory opens her mouth to respond, but closes it again. He's angry. He wasn't supposed to be angry. He'd made so many peace offerings with his writings. He missed her. Didn't he?

"Jess…" She starts. "Maybe we can go somewhere…"

"No." Jess cuts her off, looking bored but triumphant. "My girlfriend wouldn't like that." He nods at the blonde he was talking to before.

"Oh." Rory says quietly. "Then…why the magazines? Why the book?"

Jess smirks and says, "Because you chose him, and you were wrong. You don't get to forget that."

**End.**


End file.
